


Sareureuk

by JadeFlicker



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And may be a sadist, Fix-It, Folklore, Fox Village, Gradual character development, History, Kitsune, M/M, Ninja Religon, Or just be Evil, Slow Burn, This author may have a slight god complex, Traveling Warrior Monks, Youkai, family by choice, most definitely a sadist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeFlicker/pseuds/JadeFlicker
Summary: There are all sorts of legends of creatures and gods taking on a human, mortal form. Maybe it was for love. Maybe because fate deigned them to take part of some great epic journey. Maybe because they needed to learn some kind of lesson. Whatever the case, to be brought so low after escaping from the Dead Demon Consuming Seal that he would need to take on a human form felt like a punishment.(And while Kyuubi no Kurama is sulking, he is going on that journey whether he wants to or not.)(Mostly because having him end up as traveling warrior monk that keeps accidently helping people frustrateshim, but amusesme. )(Suffer, Fluffy. Suffer.)





	1. Red Among Brambles

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [reverse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339486) by [blackkat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat). 



> First off...Happy Birthday, Kat! *throws catnip confetti* Thank you so much for your amazing fics, the discussions, and for inspiring this. This is just the first chapter, but I hope this is something you'll enjoy (because it was this or draw something and frankly the current level of fanart you get scares me). I also hope you have an absolutely amazing birthday. XD
> 
> Secondly, thank you to all the sources of Japanese folklore. And fox folklore. And then just folklore in general. I kinda pulled in bits and inspiration from a lot of different sources, cultures, and pantheons. Speaking of pull, thank you Kubo of the Two Strings! (I wasn't kidding about pulling sources from every which way...)
> 
> Lastly, please enjoy.

He fled.

 

He ran without any real sense of direction or purpose, just the gnawing need to keep to the trees and shadows and lose any possible pursuers. Just as long as he left that cursed place behind. Just as long as no more humans came after him, writhing and persistent like so many worms and flies.

 

It grated. Oh, it grated and gnawed and ate at his pride like acid, but everything hurt and burned in a way he had never experienced before. He was a construct of nature chakra, rage, and hatred, and he could definitely take a hit, could stand pain. Pain was nothing after his long existence.

 

But never pain like this. Never pain that pushed him to the point of falling back on hindbrain, animal instinct; occasionally doubling back and circling and winding through the mountains and woods. To just _runrunrunrunRUN._

 

They were so determined to lock him away again. One way or another, all the humans wanted to lock him away for their own use. And they fought amongst themselves for what they believed was their _right_ to OWN him _._ Even in the end, when his last warden wanted to seal him back into her (because he spent most of her life in her head, he _knew_ her and what she would have wanted), clearly another conclusion was drawn. The stupid blonde _worm_ who was her mate wanted to re-seal him into their spawn, so that their pathetic village would continue to have their weapon.

 

He would not have it.

 

He didn’t care if it was bastard Uchihas or little blonde worms or the God of Death himself. No. No, he refused to be locked away anymore.

 

So he fled.

 

* * *

 

 The Fire Temple didn’t often get requests. At least, not in the sense of dealing with the youkai. After all, they were ultimately recognized as a _shinobi_ monastery. Issues small civilian villages had with youkai usually went to smaller civilian temples to be dealt with my monks who had _juuust_ enough chakra to do banishing and repelling seals. Most spirits (of the more troubling nature and otherwise) tended to avoid shinobi settlements altogether unless they were tied to a particular clan, family, or specific individual.

 

Still, the monks and priests from shinobi monasteries and temples all at least _fundamentally_ understood how to rid a settlement of more troubling manifestations of chakra and natural energy. And they had a duty.

 

That duty was why Chiriku had taken a detour to a small town reportedly plagued by something sinister, despite orders that he was to return from his assignment as soon as possible. Because while he may now be a member of the Twelve Guardian Ninja, the teachings of the Fire Temple and of his master were ingrained in his very bones. He served the daimyō in order to serve the people in a more proactive way than was typical of a member of the Temple. So when Master Chūkaku had sent word to him about a request the Temple had received in the nearby area, Chiriku figured he was allowed to stop by. After all, he was only human. If asked about his delay, he could excuse it as a need to rest after completing his assignment.

 

It was a simple exercise to first spend a couple of hours meditating and praying at the village’s small but clean shrine to infuse more chakra into the seal there. Then he circled the settlement and the surroundings fields to paste paper shinpu inscribed with the Sage’s name to key points around in the area, specifically at points where nature chakra were most prominent. Now, he just needed check the area for any malevolent spots of energy or lingering, wayward spirits. If there was either, then he would have to put up stronger protections, strengthen the shrine’s existing protective seal, or banish the materialization himself.

 

By this point it was the quiet and early hours of the morning, sunlight have only just turned into the pale yellow of the day and only made more prominent by the yellow and red of the leaves. Dew still clung to the leaves of the underbrush just as a slight chill still clung to the air. There was only the faintest and most occasional noise of birds and squirrel chatter, and Chiriku figured the village farmers would be sleepily hauling themselves into the fields about now.

 

Overall, it was quiet and peaceful and very pleasant to be strolling through the woods at this time, even if he was looking for a manifestation of ill or questionable intent. And it was only because the peace and quiet were so prevalent that he caught the sound of the brambles rustling at all.

 

Pausing, Chiriku slowly turned in his spot, listening for the rustle again. There was no wind, so there was something or someone out there moving, and he doubted it was a local. It was too light. So either it was an animal, a light-footed shinobi…or something else.

 

He was there for a few more minutes of silence before there was another stirring. Just the faintest and shortest of rustling whispers that decided the monk’s direction for him and set him on his path. One foot in front of another and no sounds of his own. After all, he was a monk that followed the teachings of the Sage. Even his robes didn’t disturb the heavy silence.

 

Where ever the movement had come from, it seemed to be located in an especially dense area of the forest. There was a heaviness to the air, but he wasn’t sure if it was real or if it was because his mind had conjured something from the morning silence and the foreboding aesthetics of this particular patch of forest. Here, there were more shadows and the trees seemed the lean into each other, making the sunlight that managed to filter through more speckled and patchy. The undergrowth was thicker and more tangled, consisting more of brambles, ivies, and shrubs of the more shade-tolerant varieties. Even the branches of the trees were thickly intertwined with each other in a way that discouraged Fire Country shinobi who were used to traversing the upper forest highway.

 

It certainly wasn’t easy for Chiriku and his long robes. Improvising, he carefully navigated just above the undergrowth by leaping off the sides of the trees instead. It was a tedious process, as there always seem to be some small reach branch or vine or moss trying to trip him up and snag at this clothes. But he was born and raised in the Country of Fire. The forest was his playground and a regular pathway, even at its own unfriendly. And it was at what he estimated was the heart of the dense area that he caught a flash of red at peeking between underneath leafy brambles.

 

There was something taking shelter underneath the thorns.

 

* * *

 

 It was by chance that he had found the weakness in the Dead Demon Consuming Seal.

 

Well, “weakness” wasn’t quite the right word for it.

 

What he found was a _chance._

 

In his clawing desperation and in that quarter of a second where he (he, him, it, his yin half, a part?) was pulled into the seal, he found a kink. Just this little bit he might have missed it completely in another time or place. A human wouldn’t have been able to do anything with it, but he was a being _made_ of chakra and connected to the world in a way no human ever could be, no matter what sage art they mastered.

 

His very being had been cut in two, and the Shinigami had decided to take his yin half. It was the half of spirituality, the negative, the passiveness with just a seed of physicality, positivity, and activity. After all, the Dead Demon Consuming Seal was now-a-century used to take parts of the human soul, so of course the Shinigami aimed to take the spiritual half of him while leaving his physical half in the world to be sealed.

 

But even half of his chakra had been almost too much and too massive for the stupid blonde worm to contain; he had even _felt_ the idiot human think it when he was being pulled into the seal.

 

That kink was enough, and a seed was all he needed.

 

He was a being tied to the very essence of nature itself, and he used that tie to pull himself through. Or rather, ram his way out. The result was still him just managing to seep his way out, but it was enough. With his yang half still causing chaos and exuding chakra everywhere along with the blonde worm and the bitch Uzumaki already dying because of the crap they pulled, the fact he was seeping out of the sealing went unnoticed.

 

He grabbed at anything and everything to escape. Grabbed at his yang half which was still struggling in the physical world. Hooked himself onto the nature chakra in the wind and the trees and the water, and anchored himself to the ley lines of chakra that ran throughout the world. Hell, he even grabbed onto the two Uzumaki. The Uzumaki bitch still held traces of his chakra from being his jail cell and warden for the best decade and a half. Her spawn held traces from being conceived and grown in the same body he was sealed into. Even now, he was gaining more than traces as his yang half was being sealed into the little grub.

 

But his he (his yin half, some _part_ of him at least) was free. He didn’t even know if all of him had gotten out, he was in so much pain.

 

He didn’t care if it was the bastard Uchihas or little blonde worms or the God of Death himself. No. No, he refused to be locked away anymore.

 

But one doesn’t defy the Shinigami without consequences. Not even if that one was the Kyuubi no Kitsune.

 

And he could feel the backlash settle into his bones and his center like a damning, like a curse.

 

* * *

 

 Chiriku clicked his tongue in sympathy before he could restrain himself. Poor thing. By the way the flash of red was circling in bursts of frantic movement and then periods of stillness in turn underneath the brambles, it was stuck.

 

“What do we have here?” he murmured, carefully lowering himself into the shrubs and slowly wading through. If it was hurt, then there was no need to startle it. “Are you alright, little one?”

 

Whatever animal was there, probably a fox by the color, seemed to freeze.

 

“It’s alright,” Chiriku murmured, making an effort to be soothing. Colleagues had often remarked at his “resting-disappointed-parent-face” and his tendency to appear and come off as severe without meaning too. With careful, deliberately telegraphed movements, he started pulling away at the overlying shrubs. “I will not harm you. Let us see what we can do to get you unstuck.”

 

**_“Don’t TOUCH me, worm!”_ **

 

The sudden volcano blast of corrosive chakra, pure rage, and caustic hatred threw bodily Chiriku back against the trunk of the tree he’d climbed down from. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, couldn’t even move because of the pressure and bloodlust. If he was breathing it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. He couldn’t even choke or gasp because, _Sage_ , everything was just so heavy. Like the rush of a sudden and unexpected fall, stealing his breath away altogether in a way that hadn’t happened since he was knee high.

 

He was going to die.

 

He was going to die. _He was going to die. **Hewasgoingtodie—**_

 

But as suddenly as the blast came, it just as abruptly stopped. Like a someone suddenly turning the facet off, Chiriku suddenly found himself slumped and desperately gulping for air against the tree trunk, shakily grasping at the ground with trembling hands. Cold sweat was pouring down the sides of his face and his clothes felt tacky and too itchy against his skin. It was an experience of hyperawareness of his own self and simultaneously feeling strangely numb and detached from his own body.

 

Sage bless, the monk didn’t remember the last time he been so affected by killing intent. Hell, he didn’t remember having _ever_ felt this potent of killing intent.

 

It was only once he was able to bring his own breathing under control, calm his mind, and put himself back together that he realized there was something heaving wetly. It was a sorry, sorry sound regularly punctuated by heavy wheezes. Carefully pushing himself onto his knees, the monk warily crept forward. The surrounding undergrowth had been flattened by the force or burned to a crisp by the fiery chakra, and the tree he had been tossed against had dark lashes like wounds. He guessed that the only reason he escaped relatively unscathed (except for the one solid bruise across his back) was because the way he had been tossed away bodily had resulted in him collapsing at the base of the trunk and being protected by the gnarled roots.

 

In the epicenter of the blast zone, there was a mass of red fur. It was about three times bigger than a regular fox and more the size of a truly massive wolf. But Chiriku hadn’t exactly been _wrong_ in his initial guess. Additionally, he now _knew_ that the pressure he felt hadn’t been a machination of his imagination.

 

“A kitsune,” Chiriku swallowed, his voice coming out a lot steadier than he was feeling. “One, I see, with a great many tails...”

 

One of the tails shifted, and he was suddenly being stared down by a vividly red eye and able to see the edge of starkly white, gleaning teeth.

 

 _“Leave,”_ the creature snarled through its panting. There was force behind the command, but nothing like before. “ _Leave, you piece of air-sucking **shit**_.”

 

But Chiriku wasn’t one to ever let insults affect him and the abuse slid off his skin like so much melted ice. His attentions more focused on the way the creature kept its tails fanned between itself and Chiriku like a barrier, only allowing the monk to see a sliver of its face. And even through that narrow sliver, he could see a mixture of red blood and curling red chakra bleeding from the corner of its mouth. Despite the smell of ash mixed in with the faint smell of petrichor and earth, there was the distinct coppery, clinging smell of blood. It was strong enough to imply that the creature was bleeding from more places than he could see.

 

“You’re injured,” he remarked.

 

If the fox were human, Chiriku got the distinct sense it would spit at him. “No thanks to your _fucking_ parasite of a species,” he snarled. “Now _leave me alone._ ”

 

“I can tend to your wounds,” the monk continued on urgently, effortlessly ignoring the warning. “You are not the first youkai I’ve met, and I know healing to help close your wounds. You are already on the edge of turning into a nogitsune, please let me help you.”

 

These wounds weren’t created by the wards or shinpu he had put up, which usually repelled at most. As Chiriku slowly crept closer, he could see that these were actual wounds that bled blood and chakra. Something had torn into the creature with fervor, and with the way the wounds wound around its limbs and the hint of blood on the fur around its neck, someone or something had tried to bind it against its will. Those weren’t the marks of a creature affected by the shinpu or wards, and it hadn’t been repelled from the area. So for all intents and purposes, it couldn’t be a manifestation of especially malicious intent despite the hair raising, murderous aura.

 

“ _Please_ ,” it snorted exasperatedly, then coughing wetly as a result. Calming from its coughing fit, it muttered, “As if I could become a nogitsune. It’s beneath me.”

 

Oh god. The Guardian Ninja stopped himself from groaning in exasperation and facepalming as he had seen many of his colleagues do. It wasn’t a habit he felt he should pick up, however much the situation deserved it. Somehow, he had forgotten how _proud_ kitsune as a species tended to be.

 

“Please,” he entreated solemnly, holding his hands out for the creature to see. It was a civilian gesture and ultimately useless, but it sent a clear message. The creature seemed to know this as the tails shifted in a distinctly menacing way. Deciding to go with the shinobi way, Chiriku let green, healing chakra flare forth in his hands. Among shinobi, this was the distinctive signal among shinobi of a healer’s sincere intention to help. “Please, I only want to help.”

 

It was clear that he said the exact wrong thing as soon as the words met the open air. The tails, _all NINE of them,_ flared out aggressively. The healing chakra in his hands sputtered out in his shock. Every fang and claw was on display as the Kyuubi no Kitsune snarled viciously at him.

 

“Help? _Please_ ,” the fox huffed derisively, bloody spittle flying. “I know your kind and all you humans are the _same_!”

 

There was so much venom injected into each word spat out, but that wasn’t all that caught Chiriku’s attention. Awareness was key in the teachings of the Sage, after all. Priority of an attacking force had him instantly catching onto the aggressive stance, the teeth, the fangs, flexible body, and the watchful, narrowed eyes. But like this, stretched out and ready to leap at the monk, Chiriku could see the full extent of the damage of blood and wounds winding around the tails, its legs, torso, and neck.

 

“Stupid _worm_ ,” the fox snarled. “What are you trying to coerce from me, human?”

 

“I-I…,” Chiriku swallowed. “There is no trick. You’re hurt, and it is my duty to assist all of the Sage’s crea—“

 

“ _I DON’T WANT YOUR HELP!_ ” it screamed at him, pressure increasing once again. It lunged and he was forced to dive out of the way, both of their movements raising clouds of soot and ash. Teeth audibly snapped down on where Chiriku’s head was before. Hissing, it smoothly twisted around to keep the monk in view, prowling and circling closer. Warily, Chiriku got onto his foot but remained crouched. At this point, he and Kyuubi hadn’t broken eye contact once and he was afraid to so much as blink.

 

“ _You humans_ …I don’t _want_ or _need_ your ‘help’,” it said the last word scornfully, bitterness laced through like tangle caught in its throat. “Is that what you’re trying to do? ‘Help’ me, try to make me feel indebted to you, then try to send me out on errands like a _dog_? You wouldn’t be the first. Hah! I’m sure you won’t be the last either. That’s the problem with your species,” it hissed. “Always assuming you know best! Always assuming you’re so clever and have the _natural born_ right to anything you set your _grubby_ eyes on!” Here, Chiriku was forced to roll out of the way as the fox suddenly shot forward to take a vicious, wide swipe. “You see this forest, that desert, another lake, and you just ASSUME you have the right to tear it apart, dig up, and change it for your own convenience! Without any consideration to whatever or whoever was already living there! Hell, you do it to EACH OTHER!” A tail gouged into the ground in the spot where Chiriku had somersaulted to. The fur came away black and the monk had lost the hem of a sleeve. “Yes…with each other as well as with every living thing you can get your hands on. If you can use it then it is YOURS, isn’t it?! And if someone has it, then you _want_ it! You’ll enslave it, lock it away, and then blame it for all your sordid little problems because WHY NOT! Tell it to BE QUIET, STAY SILENT, BE A GOOD CAPTIVE AND TOOL,” another tail lashed out and an invisible blade of wind clean cut through the underbrush, “When you would NEVER be silent if you were imprisoned or trapped! You’ll hang onto it for all your worthless life while calling it a burden for being _YOUR_ **_PRISONER_**!”

 

At the last word, where it seemed to have worked to the very peak of its rant, corrosive chakra exploded from the Kyuubi again. Having expected it, Chiriku ducked behind the truck of a tree as corrosive chakra washed through the forest, lashing wildly at its surroundings. Distantly, the man could hear the heavy, ringing crashes and rustles of falling trees, too heavy to just be falling branches. But clearly, the initial burst had taken it out of the already exhausted creature because the pressure and chakra only lasted a few seconds before it relented again.

 

Then it was just the man and the fox and the forest silence once again, both panting and gasping for air. Neither of them moving from their spots. Chiriku could hear his heart thundering in his ears and his palms felt wet even as he pressed it against the bark. The moments drew out as neither moved, neither willing to disturb the silence as they recollected themselves.

 

Finally, a laugh broke the silence and echoed through the space. Mocking and bitter and menacing. It was the laughter of something cynical and disillusioned and lashing out at everything because it had been kicked down one too many times.

 

“Always assuming you know the whole story,” it threw out mockingly, not even seeming to care if there was anyone listening or not. “Then you use your delusions to justify your actions and call it _justice_ or _love_ or _determination_.” Another dark laugh, more rustling that seemed to grow closer. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. After all, you’re only dealing with a mindless BEAST.” More rustling, but otherwise, silence. “That’s the role your kind has put me in, little worm. You’re fucking lucky I’m tired right now. But Sage forbid, I can’t STAND your human stink. So _run_. _Run and tell no one_. And if you come back? If you bring back any of your little friends? I’ll kill you all. Pick my _teeth_ with your bones and _piss_ on your corpses. Or, if I really need the energy, I’ll just eat the lot of you.”

 

A flicker of red in the corner of his eye started Chiriku badly. He wasn’t sure if it was the fox or a falling leaf.

 

“ ** _Run_** _, you little bald **worm**.” _

Taking a few desperate breathes, the man braced himself before pushing away from the tree and bolting back towards the small village. He needed to report this, needed to get word back to Konohagakure, the Temple, the daimyo, just _anyone_. Or at the very least find out what happened in Konoha that led to a bijuu loose in the forest in the middle of nowhere. The sheer destruction and causalities that could be result from this…

 

He glanced back.

 

He glanced back even as he was running for his life.

 

And as he looked over his should, he glimpsed of the fox standing on shaky legs, head bowed as it threw up blood and chakra on the forest floor. It heaved, stumbled, and finally collapsed back into the heap Chiriku first saw it in.

 

And he couldn’t help but notice how alone it seemed in the center of its circle of ash, yellow and red leaves obliviously falling around it like it wasn’t some being of chaos and hatred.

 

Turning away, Chiriku ran and felt no shame in it.


	2. Trees of Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Chiriku believes in the power of sharing food.

Konohagakure had been attacked. The Kyuubi no Kitsune had gotten loose on October 10th and had turned on the village. Hundreds were dead, including the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato. The Third Hokage had taken control of the village and was in the process of burying the dead and rebuilding. If there was talk of finding another successor, then none of it was conclusive.

 

But what threw Chiriku the most was the news of a new jinchuuriki. With his dying breath, the Fourth Hokage had sealed the demon fox into a newborn baby. It was an entire story that sounded fantastical to the point it edged towards propaganda. Only Chiriku’s current position as the daimyo’s guard kept him from questioning the accuracy of the information.

 

Humming thoughtfully, the monk took a bite of the mochi the villagers had kindly offered him. While normally he would abstain from such treats, the sugar was helping his body combat the chances of going into shock. It had been a day and a half since the encounter, but it had left its mark. He had returned to the village visibly disturbed with warnings of staying out of dense forest and keep to their fields, homes, and maybe the edge of the woods. Then this morning, he had awoken in the bed lent to him shaking, with cold sweat soaking through his robes, and no recollection of his dreams.

 

Without a doubt, he had counted nine tails. More importantly, he was able to dig through his memories to examine the brief moment the daimyo had meet with Konohagakure’s previous jinchuuriki, Uzumaki Kushina. It had been during the Third Shinobi War and the daimyo had insisted on seeing Konoha’s greatest weapon.

 

Uzumaki Kushina had been a clearly skilled shinobi, appearing before their lord in a neat jounin outfit that showed subtle signs of use and a sheathed katana strapped to her back. A handsome woman, the most notably feature at the time was the long, red hair that marked her as one of the last surviving Uzumaki. That is, it _was_ the most notable feature until she had gotten impatient with the dithering that marked the careful, masked interactions between politicians. Even though her face had remained smiling, there had been a few moments where she leaked heavy, malevolent chakra into the room before cutting it off. That had been more than enough to set everyone on edge for the rest of the meeting.

 

It had only been for a few moments, and there had only been barest traces that teased the edges of the senses, but it was distinctive enough that there was no mistaking it for anything else. The kitsune’s chakra had been the one and the same.

 

Conclusion, the creature Chiriku had met was most definitely the Kyuubi no Kitsune.

 

But it then begged the question…

 

If the creature he met was the Kyuubi, then what exactly had gotten sealed away? It wasn’t like Konoha had any other bijuu.

 

And if the Kyuubi had been sealed, as testified by the shinobi village, then what exactly did he find in the woods?

 

This detour had turned out to be more complicated than he could have ever possibly imagined and he would need time. Swallowing his bite, the monk did a quick mental calculation on how much longer he could afford to stay in the village before the daimyo either insist that he return or send someone to retrieve him. The daimyo wasn’t an employer that kept a particularly tight leash on them, so he would have another week and a half at least since Chiriku had already sent in the paperwork for his last mission. With the jinchuuriki incident on top of the trouble with the Land of Stone and the recent rise of inter-court political machinations to distract the daimyo and his immediate attendant’s attention, he might even get almost four weeks.

 

It would have to do.

 

First, he had to figure out what was going on with the creature in the woods. Assess danger levels. Hopefully direct it away from the immediate villagers. It may be injured, but it wouldn’t remain so.

 

Secondly, he had to figure out whether or not it was the one causing the village problems. With its proximity to the village, it was certainly a possibility.

 

Initially, he had thought the seals hadn’t affected the fox because it was a myobu not yet affected enough by earthly influences to become a field fox. After all, it was field foxes that often held malicious intents towards humans and therefore were affected and turned away by the shinpu wards. But this was the Kyuubi no Kitsune. Even with its injuries, it was just too powerful to be affected by Chiriku’s warding seals. Neither his own work nor the village shrine’s protective seal were made to deal with something like a bijuu. Not nearly enough chakra for one thing. It was injured for now, but if it decided to attack, there was a good chance they would be wiped out without a trace.

 

But farm animals with their throats torn out? Rotten food mixed with good? Bad dreams? Mysterious noise in the night and shadows forming from late-night cooking fires? He had barely found the Kyuubi in the first place with it injured as it was. And that was the point wasn’t it? It could barely move, so how was he was suppose to believe it pulled all those tricks that sickened the villagers?

 

Third, and finally, he had to find a solution to deal with it. He had to make a decision, and soon.

 

He hadn’t sent word to Konohagakure.

 

He hadn’t contacted the daimyo nor the Hokage nor the Fire Temple.

 

Despite the fear and adrenaline at the time, the snarling words haunted him. Because that ranting? The one filled with bitterness and lashing rage at the world? That wasn’t the ramblings of a mindless beast. If anything, the monk would say that it was the disillusioned curses of someone faced with one abuse too many and backed into the corner.

 

He had a responsibility to his country and the people, and it was a responsibility he took very seriously. But…

 

There was the niggling of compassion, of pity for such a lonely creature.

 

People called bijuus natural disasters or monsters, with a reputation for attacking human settlements seemingly at random. Chiriku had the luck of at least being a little more knowledgeable than the general masses, a little more willing to deliberate and careful to examine something from all angles.

 

Bijuu were ultimately masses of natural chakra. The shinobi villages believed to them to be mindless, the fox wasn’t wrong about that. However, clearly there was enough intelligence there for bijuu to be analytical, are sentient enough to have emotions. This particular one, though, seemed to have little more emotions than resentment, rage, and bitterness; maybe a little bit of fear.

 

As he sat there, he quietly examined the compassion, the pity, the fear, and the sense of responsibility all warring against each other inside him. Outwardly, he looked serene and unfazed. Internally, he picked at the emotions, taking the time to reason through each and smooth them out. Tranquility leads to focus. Focus leads to the ability to be able to do something about the situation, to reason, and to resist being overwhelmed.

 

The teachings of the Sage taught that the world itself had its own chakra system. With lava and water as its blood, earth as its bones, wind as its breath, and lightning as it nerves. Of course the world would also have its own chakra system. Natural chakra flowed through everything and everyone, and the individual should attempt to at least _try_ to connect to the world’s natural system. And despite what his gibbering hindbrain said otherwise, it was logical that the Kyuubi no Kitsune was a part of that system.

  

Did he not also have the responsibility to at least _try_ to connect with the fox?

 

At the very least, he should try to talk to it. Something about the way it talked about not knowing the whole story bothered him in the same way the story of the Kyuubi attacking Konoha did. There was a history of bijuu attacking the villages they belonged to, but never Konoha where they had a number of the most accomplished seal masters in the world. So how did it escape from Uzumaki Kushina, a member of the clan who were the origin of jinchuuriki and specialized in sealing bijuu? Someone who knew how to handle bijuu better than most, would know early on if something was going wrong, and would know the most about countermeasures? How did a woman who contained the beast admirably for almost two decades just suddenly lose control without warning? Not to mention, if it had been sealed away, then what was it doing here? And for heaven’s sake, why was a construct of chakra _bleeding_?!

 

He huffed. Okay, he concluded. So he also had questions he needed answered. He could start from there, and do this very, very carefully.

 

But how to approach it?

 

Chiriku’s eyes caught on the last mochi sitting on the offered plate. His brows rose as the beginnings of a plan dawned in his mind.

 

Well…There was an idea.

 

* * *

 

 

_“What the **FUCK** do you think you’re doing here?!”_

 

Chiriku settled in a crouch where he warily rested on the balls of his feet, ready to move or jump away at a less than a moment’s notice.

 

“You said next time I came, you would either kill me or eat me if you were hungry,” he recalled in all seriousness. He was faintly trembling by the pressure being given off, but seemed otherwise unfazed. “So I brought mochi.”

 

There was a stunned silence as the Kyuubi no Kitsune stared at him incredulously, glanced at the lunch box, then went back to staring at him. And despite the fact that he couldn’t swallow because his throat was so dry, Chiriku was still somewhat amused by the taken aback look of vulpine offense the Calamity of Their Era was sporting.

 

“There’s something wrong with you,” it informed him flatly.

 

Chiriku shrugged. “I am a monk who regular practices abstinence from the many temptations of life. You would not be the first to think something was wrong with me.”

 

“I don’t think you’re off in the head because you _won’t fuck someone_!” the fox snaps, the stunned state wearing off to be replaced with offense at being indirectly compared to humans. “I think you’re off in the head because _there’s something off in your head_.”

 

The monk raised an eyebrow at the flared tails and carefully didn’t let his body show any outward sign of tension. “For bringing food?”

 

“I’m not a _wild dog_ that you can ply with food, you bald worm!” it hissed incredulously with exasperation in every line of its body.

 

“If I’m trying to ply anything from you,” Chiriku admitted seriously, “It’s for you to not to eat me. Or anyone, for that matter. Eat these instead.”

 

The fox lunged.

 

“ ** _GO AWAY!”_**

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh for the love of Sage— _I JUST CHASED YOU OFF THIS MORNING_!”

 

“You didn’t seem to like mochi,” Chiriku put a bag on the ground and untied it. Laying it out, he gestured at a small tower of…“So I thought you might like senbei crackers instead."

 

Three more trees went down.

 

* * *

 

 

“The village headman’s wife made these taiyaki fresh this morning—“

 

“ _I DON’T FUCKING CARE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”_

He lost a sandal and had to throw off his outer robe when it caught fire, but he thought the venture wasn’t a _complete_ disaster.

 

* * *

 

 

“The villagers made daifuku for Jidai Matsuri,” Chiriku open the box and tilted it so the fox could see the contents from its distance. “Apparently, the Festival of the Ages is very important in this prefecture. The village makes good money selling snacks in the big town some ways over.”

 

“…I’m going to rip out your throat if it’s the last fucking thing I do.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Kyuubi-san?” Chiriku called, peering around distrustfully when he couldn’t immediately pinpoint where the giant, nine-tailed red fox was. “Kyuubi-san? I brought some manju buns.”

 

Huh. The monk carefully made his way through the area that now wasn’t so much a dense wooded area as much as a charred clearing. The heavy pressure of the fox’s chakra was still there, but the fox itself hadn’t come prowling about to warn him off yet.

 

After an hour of searching, he was able to conclude that the densest area of chakra was in an especially dense copse of trees. Specifically, it was coming from above, among the thick, tangled branches that Chiriku wouldn’t be able to get through without using chakra to cut through branches.

 

“Kyuubi-san?” he ventured.

 

No answer.

 

Staring curiously, he wondered at the lack of answer before it suddenly occurred to him what might be happening here.

 

“Are you…?” he trailed off, a trace of disbelief in his question. “Are you ignoring me?”

 

It might just be the monk, but he thought there was something pointed about the silence and lack of any kind of response.

 

Well… Chiriku took out a manju bun and bit into it. He was a calm man, but this ignited that carefully buried streak of stubbornness in him like nothing else. If that’s how it wanted to do this…

 

* * *

 

 

“Kyuubi-san? I have some warabimochi here.”

 

“….”

 

“I do not know if you are willing to come out or not. But I will just put this piece on this branch…and another on this branch…and on this one…”

 

* * *

 

 

“The market a town over was selling kue. I am sure you’ve never tried anything like this.”

 

“……..”

 

“I guess I’ll just leave a piece here. And here. And here…”

 

* * *

 

 

“The village headman wanted to share some namagashi he received recently.”

 

“……….”

 

“Alright. I will just spread them among the branches with the rest then.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I realize that you do not want to burn down the trees you are hiding in, so you really should try to eat at least some of it. The trees are becoming very…colorful.”

 

“………..”

 

“Hmmm, you know, I think this might be a good practice for villages with minor local gods. Decorate a number of trees with treats, setting along every branch.”

 

“………………”

 

“Though I have not figured out why you do not bury them like some of the others. You realize you _can_ touch them. They are not poisonous.”

 

“…………………………..”

 

“…Unless you’re being stubborn, and…Hold…Are _trapped_ by desserts?”

 

* * *

 

 

As if to prove that, no, it was not in fact trapped by the _desserts_ liberally decorating every branch Chiriku could reach…

 

The next time Chiriku came to visit, there was a large mound of dirt outside the copse, which was pointedly bare.

 

* * *

 

 

“Aaaahh, dorayaki was my favorite as a child. Are you sure you don’t want to try some? Here, I will leave them on this branch.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Kyuubi-san, a merchant train came through today. I bought some konpeito from them.”

 

“….”

 

“You do realize that I’m just going to stay here until you answer me, yes?”

 

There was an unmistakable, pained groan from the somewhere in the tangle of branches.

 

* * *

 

 

At the end of the second week and two dozen more visits (he often visited multiple times per day) after the fox had decided to try ignoring the monk, it finally broke.

 

“What do you _not understand_ about **_LEAVING. ME. ALONE?!_** ”

 

“…Imagawayaki? There is red bean, vanilla, and matcha.”

 

“ ** _AJFDNSFVNEWFSDMEK!”_**

****

It sounded simultaneously like and not at all like words. He was rather impressed.

****

* * *

 

 

“The villagers were willingly to let me have some yokan. Are these more to your taste?”

 

The fox uncurled its tails and examined him with equal parts hostility and weariness. It had been a little over half a month with Chiriku coming to visit it two to three times a day, so he was a pretty confident judge of its body language at this point. At least, confident enough to tell that the Kyuubi was _heavily tempted to_ lunge, but was debating whether or not the effort would be worth it. After it’s frustrated outbursts, he had arrived the next day to find it curled up among some especially fragrant ferns.

 

And still doing its level best to ignore him.

 

Either way, the monk kept on his figurative toes. He’d only survived this long by the skin of the fox’s teeth because of his wariness.

 

“Does your precious little village even know what you’re taking all this food for?”

 

The rumbling words startled him, but not quite enough to make him jump. He simply met its gaze levelly and nodded.

 

“They know I’m using the food to try to settle a local youkai. When dealing with minor gods, it’s traditional to bring food to every meeting.”

 

“ _Minor?!”_ it yelped, offended, leaping to its feet with its tail whipping back and revealing that now familiar look of vulpine offense.

 

Chiriku gave it a flat look as he opened the box of treats. Most of the food he had brought hadn’t been eaten so much as burnt to a crisp or buried. But some of the things he brought had drawn a second glance, an examining tilt of the head, a curious nose twitch. There was definitely wariness and distrust there, but it was warring with the curiosity.

 

“Would you rather I tell them that a major god, specifically the fox god of wrath and destruction, has settled in their locality?”

 

This drew a sneer from the fox, “Would sent the whole pathetic pack of them running, that’s for sure. And maybe then you’ll go with them and I can finally be free of your human odor stinking up the woods.”

 

“If they knew and they ran, they would tell other people,” Chiriku reasoned solemnly, casually popping a jellied dessert into his mouth and chewing. This drew a second glance from the fox to the food from the subtly pointed example that the food wasn’t poisoned. “It would draw soldiers. A mob. The daimyo’s and Konoha’s shinobi, without a doubt.”

 

The fox stilled for a split second, a moment of tension running through its body that made Chiriku ready to flicker away in turn. Its lips drew back from its teeth threateningly, a low grumble echoing through its chest and filling the woods.

 

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” it growled, sarcastically polite to the point of derisiveness. “Why _haven’t_ you told anybody else? It doesn’t matter what you think the best solution was or how best to approach me, your masters would have sent any army by now. And I can’t feel anyone besides you and those mud-crawlers back where you came from.”

 

Here, Chiriku paused and thought through his reply. There was no way he could speak of compassion or pity or chances without getting his head probably (quite literally) bitten off. As it is, the fox only just barely tolerated him in its space because he had proven too much of an annoyance to get rid of while it was injured. If the monk poked at its pride now, however much indirectly, he would no doubt be moved into the category of “too much of an annoyance to let live”.

 

“I don’t think there is a need for them to know,” he intoned carefully.

 

This stunned the fox to a standstill altogether. It stared at him wide red eyes filled with nothing but Sage-to-honest shock. However, it didn’t last long, as it quickly gathered itself back together and switched back to examining him with even more suspicion than before.

 

“Why?!” it hissed. “You’re a member of the Twelve Guardian Ninja! You serve this cursed country’s leader directly! I am the Kyuubi no Kitsune and your worst fucking nightmare! You worms either piss yourselves in fear or in lust at the very thought of me as your very own personal weapon!”

 

Chiriku took note of that, for something that hated humanity so much, it had extensive knowledge of their infrastructure. Curious. More curious though, was its expectations of how humans saw it. That they would either look at it with fear, or with the calculation of an individual looking at a powerful, unstable tool or weapon.

 

It wasn’t wrong. That was exactly how the shinobi villages saw it. That was exactly how civilians saw it. There was no doubt that’s how the daimyo and his administrators saw it.

 

But it wouldn’t justify it killing the nearby villagers either, which was still one of Chiriku’s concerns. However…

 

What a lonely existence, with only the expectations to be feared or used.

 

Chiriku felt he perhaps understood the creature a little more. At least, enough to know it wasn’t what was playing malicious tricks on the village. Injuries aside, it was too proud for such things. If it was going to do something, it wouldn’t be to undermine the village so much as wipe the entire place out by setting everyone and everything ablaze. Possibly sitting on the village as a whole, if rumors about its usual size were anything to believe.

 

It was rare, impulsive action. If his masters at the temple knew that he had given into his impulsiveness without thinking, they would scold him even more than usual. Well, if anyone knew about this particular moment of impulsiveness, then the fox would no doubt gather more support that there was something “off in his head”.

 

Chiriku sat down. Crossed his legs. Rested his hands in his lap and looking the creature head on, having never broken eye contact.

 

He would not be able to move as quickly from this position. And by the way the fox visibly started, it knew it too.

 

“The Sage teaches us to aim for balance and harmony within ourselves, with others, and with the world around us. We are all connected by chakra, an energy that was meant to be shared. That includes you,” the thought drew an amused twitch to the corner of his lips. “I may be a worm in your eyes, but even a worm is connected to you by chakra, is it not?”

 

The fox was thrown off completely, and didn’t seem to be about to regain its balance anytime soon. Its tails switching about uncertainly as it studied him, _truly_ study him, as if for the first time.

 

“You’re right,” Chiriku admitted without hesitation or shame. “I do not know the whole story. I do not know why you’re here when all news is of the Kyuubi being sealed again in Konoha. I do not know very much about the human containers and even less about the bijuu. I do not know how you came to be, how you were created, why you attack human villages, or even why you attacked Konohagakure now.  We humans are short-lived. We try to pass along knowledge, but information often gets lost in history. And because of that I can admit without shame that I do not know many things. However,” Chiriku paused. Swallowed. Kept his gaze looked with the fox’s and didn’t move to wipe the sweat ticklishly dripping down his face. “However, there are some thing I _do_ know.”

 

Silence.

 

There had been many silences between them, what with the fox frequently deigning him unworthy of its words or just doing its best to get him to go away through ignoring him. But this was a silence was different. Here, there was a tension to it different than the usual unspoken threat. Somehow, this silence was heavier and undecipherable with an edge that could only be described as bewilderment. It hung heavy between them as Chiriku’s black eyes stared unblinkingly back at vividly red eyes that looked at him with a gaze that wasn’t hostile, but wasn’t friendly either. They were both balanced on a thread strung over a chasm, waiting for the other to make a move.

 

“What do you think you know?”

 

The neutrality in the fox’s tone was something Chiriku had never heard. The reserved way it spoke without any of the power or force behind it made the tension even heavier, despite it not using any chakra to force its point like it usually did. He forced himself not to swallow nervously, to focus, to try to convey his sincerity and truthfulness through his gaze. Certainly, it felt like those red eyes were staring into all the darkest places in his soul and _assessing_.

 

“I know that when you talk, I hear that you are in pain,” he spoke resolutely, quietly. To speak any louder in a situation with this much gravity felt like a blasphemy. “I hear that you have been hurt, that you have been alone for a long, long time, and that it has probably been an even longer time since someone has listened to you. _Truly_. And _actually_. _Listened_. To what you have to say.” Chiriku inhaled deeply through his nose, taking that bracing breath as he spoke with more force and conviction. “I am a shinobi monk of the Fire Temple, who follows the teachings of the Sage,” he intoned. Part conviction, part informing, part announcement and part oath even as he was speaking. “We are taught to spread the Sage’s teachings, to connect with the world around us, and to help where we can. Whether this be people or animal or a single sapling, it does not matter. Everyone and everything is worthy of being helped. You are no different. And no matter how you protest or growl at me, it doesn't change that you need help. Even if it is only for someone to finally listen; even if I am only a short-lived worm in your eyes. And that is why I cannot just leave you alone."

 

The Kyuubi stared at him. Its long, almost rabbit-like ears folded back against its head and possibly even more bewildered than before.

 

Again, the silence hung heavy between them, but Chiriku was alright with it. He had decided his move and had taken his step. This was his decision and his choice, and he would face whatever consequences it entailed. Now, it was the fox’s turn, and it looked unsure and wrong-footed. Finally, it took a step back. Sitting down almost too hard, it was the one who broke eye contact as it turned its gaze to the ground with a distantly thoughtful look in its eyes. Another few more minutes that stretched between the two of them was spent with Chiriku continuing studying the confused red creature as it stared at some middle distance, almost like it was remembering something.

 

Slowly, it turned back into itself, winding its tails back around like a barrier as it laid back down among the ferns.

 

“Go away,” it commanded quietly. But there was no force behind it, just the confusion of someone not knowing how to deal with Chiriku’s forwardness and a darkness of a soldier having seen far too much and was weary of it all. “Just…go away. I can’t…”

 

Chiriku nodded and got to his feet. Tucking his hands into his sleeves, he paused as he mused quietly to himself. Turning, he steadily walked away, but not before sending it a parting.

 

“I will be back tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

 

When he returned the next day, the yokan was gone. The box they had been brought in was still there without any sign of char, along with the leaves used to wrapped the individual treats. But the jellied desserts themselves were missing and there was no pointedly obvious new dirt hole or mound.

 

Chiriku allowed himself a small smile.


	3. Shadows and Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a chase through the night, talking, and Kurama's sincere regret of not letting Chiriku get eaten _GODSDAMMIT!_

 

Someone had attacked one of the village children.

 

No.

 

Some _thing_ had attacked one of the village children. Attacked, and then left the screaming, young boy bleeding sluggishly from claw marks running up one thin arm and down his bony back.

 

In the time that Chiriku had been distracted with the Kyuubi, he had missed whatever creature he was actually sent here to banish. While trying to make peace with the creature of malevolence and wrath sprawled in its half-burnt clearing, he had missed whatever insidious thing had remained lurking in the shadows. 

 

Wind and disturbed leaves hissed as he rushed through the forest, following the faintest scent of blood and the unique, elusive dust-cold-glass-sharp tang of miasma.

 

There was a full moon.

 

Feet already pushing off as he hit another branch, Chiriku tried to feel for any peculiar masses of nature chakra, to spot any strange movement among the trees. He had been a shinobi long enough not to completely trust his eyes and to take note of the small details. Small details like, oh, the lack of regular night noises.

 

No cricket chirps, no wing beats of night birds or bats, no soft river-rustling of wind through foliage. With the moon casting a strong, silver light over everything, suddenly every shadow was deeper and darker. Every gathering of collection of gloom became something suspicious and threatening. Even the distant rustle of leaves, a sudden crackle of underbrush, or the ominous creak of trees became something running away, something running after him, something watching.

 

He would be lying if he said his first thought wasn’t that the Kyuubi had decided to take a swipe at the village humans. Perhaps even doing so as a way to get back at him. To such an entity, striking at a wayward child was probably no different from flicking a flea; more a movement of annoyance than anything seriously angry. It was chilling to realize that he wouldn’t be able to decipher if the fox was angry enough to start causing damage or so powerful that it didn’t even realize the kind of damage it could so casually cost. In short, neither was good, and Chiriku had been prepared to arm himself with seals and to send out urgent messages right up until the sobbing child had started blubbering a glimpsed description to the gathered audience.

 

Long, finger-like claws.

 

Black.

 

Fog-like.

 

And most notably, yellow eyes and a high, chittering laugh that sounded “like an old lady but not an old lady”.

 

“What do you mean?” the headman had asked soothingly, rubbing a poultice into the child’s cuts. The child could not stop shivering, despite how close he sat near the fire.

 

“L-like if a ol’ lady w-was a a-animal. A-an’ the animal w-was laughin’ a-at m-me, ‘cause it’s ‘bout to e-eat me. L-like I was s-suddenly in a d-dark hole an’ I couldn’t s-see where I was g-goin’ an’ I didn’t know where i-it was. But i-i-it knew where I-I was. A-an’ it was j-just waiting for m-me to scream…,” the child stuttered. Shuddering, he curled into himself as they continued. “B-but I was too scared to scream. An’ s-suddenly it was t-there an’ i-i-it hurt…”

 

The other worried adults didn’t really pay much attention to the description, excusing it as being the overactive imagination of the child. After all, the child was old enough to not completely go silent at a traumatic event, but still young enough that their imagination was expected to run away with them. Only to be expected after the trauma of an attack, after all. They were more concerned about the actual injuries and the worried about their own security. His injuries didn’t really match any description they had of what a spirit did (poisoning, sickness, rot, and the unexplainable). These were clearly claw marks, and not unusual ones at that! So it had to be an animal, right?

 

Chiriku, however, felt a shiver roll down his spine at the description.

 

Taking over from the headman, he carefully peeled back the child’s eye and was even more cautious on maintaining the comforting smile on his face. That amount of recalled yet disjointed detail, the glazed look in the child’s eyes, the non-stop shaking and chill. Discerning that the child was clearly in shock, Chiriku wrapped blankets around him after their wound was tended and quickly boiled tea with a good amount of the headman’s honey. For a civilian, the boy was dealing remarkably well with what was either intense killing intent or a strong genjutsu. It was fortunate that children always did tend to be a bit more resilient than adults.

 

The monk wasn’t exactly sure how weakened the Kyuubi was, except for that it tired after a certain amount of activity. However, he was relatively certain it could still transform (even if he’d never _seen_ it display such an ability, safer at the moment to just assume). The question would be why it would _bother_? If it was trying to divert suspicions, it had to know it failed. Any kind of attack in this manner would make it the foremost suspect unless it killed Chiriku immediately to keep him from raising the alarms.

 

(In which case, the headman of another nearby farming village was instructed to deliver a written note to the Temple of Fire.)

 

All that aside, the killing intent the child described sounded nothing like what the monk had been subjected to for the past few weeks. However much he suspected the fox, he also had to entertain the possibility that he missed something. That, perhaps, there was the chance that whatever spirit had been bothering the village never left despite his wards. Or perhaps it had simply managed to overcome and power through the shinpu with time.

 

A twisting tightening in his gut, a sudden clench in his heart, an itch in the center of his back, and a sudden flood of overwhelming fear had him immediately lunging to the side. He was moving even as he heard the branch he was on before give a shrieking crack behind him, ringing too sharply in a night that was otherwise far too quiet.

 

Whatever it was, it had found him.

 

A high, knife-like chittering had him bolting wildly through the trees. There was no more sounds of breaking branches nor any of following footsteps. Instead, he occasionally caught the _whvoosssh! whvoosssh!_ of something fast flying through the air. And the suspicion that there was something behind him, that something was chasing him down, was more chilling than if he knew concretely.

 

But he wouldn’t be a shinobi monk if he didn’t have a certain resilience, now would he? Chiriku was given the candidacy of a Guardian for a reason, after all.

 

The actual practice of compartmentalizing priorities and emotions was something that took a bit of concentration, effort, and a good deal of practice and experience. Fortunately, he plenty of training in the first two and had a good deal of experience with the latter two. With all the expertise of a veteran shinobi, he was quickly able to mentally separate himself from the gibbering, instinctual fear aroused by the blood-scented miasma. In this kind of situation, the man knew better than to let fear and confusion cloud his perception or actions. He simply couldn’t afford such things that would only serve to slow his decision making at a critical period. Leaping off another branch, Chiriku spun around and scattered a flurry of shurikens and kunai attached with a mix of purifying and explosive tags. Simultaneously, he attempted to catch a glimpse of the creature and reached out with his own senses.

 

 _Nothing_.

 

He’d felt _nothing_.

 

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought whatever the thing was had _no chakra_.

 

He started so badly that he missed the next branch, barely catching himself on a lower one. Swinging himself forward one-handed, the monk threw himself forward and continued his headlong rush while his mind raced. His thoughts scrambling, Chiriku tried to decipher what in the great bowels of Yomi-no-kumi was following him because he had never heard of _anything_ even REMOTELY similar. Meanwhile, there was no sound or indication that his projectiles made contact with anything besides trees, as evident by the familiar echoing _thud_ of metal sinking into resilient bark and the multiple loud ‘ _bang!_ ’s from the explosive tags.

 

No, whatever it was, it wasn’t nothing. If he was pushed to give a description of what he glimpsed…

 

 _Shadows_.

 

A whole _mass_ of true, actual, light-absorbing black that wavered and slinked and pulsed. Its very presence seemed to make its immediate surroundings darker. All save for the two-three-eight sickeningly yellow, slanted eyes that rested unwaveringly in the center, focused on its prey as it moved unhesitatingly through the trees. Even moonlight looked sickening and haunted when the shadow passed through the glimmers that filtered past the treetops, unafraid of the silver-white beams. And around the clot was a thin edge of pulsing black mist that _crept_ , like a millipede with its hundreds of legs. Except now it _crept fast_. Now it crept and scrambled after _him_.

 

Most disturbingly, when the monk had reached out, trying to sense for any kind of chakra, natural or otherwise…

 

No, it couldn’t be. That was impossible. Nothing could be completely _void_ of chakra. Everything had chakra in some form or another. That was one of the main teachings of the Fire Temple; one of the _rules_ of the _world_. Only a small percentage of humans had developed chakra systems to _manipulate_ chakra, but everyone had it. Meanwhile, natural chakra ran through everything; people, animals, trees, water, stone, and wind. There were even records of great masters being able to sense the flow of chakra in the alignment of the stars and in the moon itself.

 

Gritting his teeth, Chiriku rushed through the forest, making sharp turns and fading into the shadows in turn to try to lose it. In one particularly tricky scramble through a tight tangle of branches, he threw five shinpu into a roughly circular placement along the edges of the opening he had slipped through. Leaping away, he turned back once again and pointed towards the seals with two fingers while forming a one-handed, tiger hand sign. The bit of chakra embedded in the slips of paper activated the shinpu carrying the Sage’s name and references to the five elements. Trap set, he continued on at full speed.

 

He immediately knew it worked when a harsh blaze suddenly lit up behind him, turning his surroundings blinding whites and silvers while casting the rest in shades of grey. The flood of light was accompanied by the snapping of electricity, only to be steadily drowned out by a kind of high-pitch, whining shriek that gained volume until it rang through the forest. Chiriku found himself wincing at the screech, a sound similar to the high-pitched whine of escaped steam (if the sound had ever reached the pitch where it felt like taking knives to your ears).

 

Circling back to see what exactly his trap had caught, the monk arrived just in time to see the mass suddenly rearing back into itself and swipe out at all five seals, the flashing electricity of the seal trailing the movements of a clawed, hand-like appendage. The light and noise suddenly vanishing caused his stomach to give a lighted-headed, sickening lurch as if he had suddenly tripped from a height. Without a second glance, he immediately fled.

 

It had cut through his seals. More importantly, the way the cackling energy had trailed its movement like parted water indicated that it could cut through chakra, or at least disrupt it.

 

It wasn’t long afterwards that Chiriku started to throw out jutsus. In a blood curdling game of cat and mouse, they raced through the trees, the night occasionally lit up by Chiriku’s fire and lightning attacks or ringing with the crashing and screeching of rocks, waves, and wind. In the end, the man couldn’t do much against something that didn’t seem to have a mortal body and seem to be able swallow any chakra thrown into its inky center mass. Earth and water jutsu had proven to be most effective, as they served to create minor physical deterrents. It was unfortunate that they were the elements he was the weakest in. Air jutsus worked relatively well if he managed a strong enough pinpoint blast. If any fire or lightning jutsu worked, then he simply didn’t have any strong enough in his repertoire.

 

Seeing as those were his strong suits, it really _irked_ him.

 

But really, all it did was briefly stall it. He shouldn’t have been that surprised to be caught.

 

The impact reminded him of the time he fought a shinobi with a peculiar affinity with mud. An overwhelming and heavy impact that suddenly slammed into his side yet _oozed_ and _moved_ and _TRAPPED_ , unlike a wall of earth or rock.

 

His head snapped back as he crashed into the underbrush and planet litter of the forest floor. This was made worse by his attacker having landed on top of him with its full weight ( _and wasn’t it vaporous before?_ ) and was now oozing over him, sliding over and pressing down at his limbs. Dazedly, he still managed to pull out another shinpu from his sleeve and slap it on the blackness before it could fully pin down his arm. If he thought the attack had felt like a mud-based jutsu attack, it was an impression made even stronger by what it physically felt like. When it touched his bare skin, he instantly felt utterly repulsed by it. Slick like oil, he felt dirty and polluted just touching it, utterly convinced it had left so kind of residue on his hand and wrist.

 

He didn’t have any time to pay attention to his disgust, no time to be squeamish.

 

Fortunately, the seal worked to some extent. Letting out another ear-rendering shriek, more angry than pained this time, it threw itself away from the disoriented monk. _Unfortunately_ , ‘some extent’ was exactly how effectively it worked. A few seconds more of writhing, and the seal gave a fizz before crumpling into itself and floating to the ground like…well, so much paper.

 

But at least it gave Chiriku time to get back on his feet. Glaring at the pass, he settled into an unyielding stance.

 

He was _done_ testing this being, and he was _done_ running.

 

As it charged at him, he breathed out.

 

Six feet.

 

Inhale.

 

Four feet.

 

Exhale.

 

Two feet.

 

Inhale.

 

He threw out powerful palm strike into the center of the mass, his hand glowing with a wreath of chakra. Chiriku’s hand sank sickeningly into the mass, but he did not flinch back. Thick brows furrowed as he braced himself and gathered his determination before pouring his chakra into his center, his hips, his bracing leg, his arm, and the striking hand. Pressing forward with a sharp yell, he _heaved_ and threw the creature back into a tree a few feet away.

 

Well…

 

Carefully controlling his breathing, he observed the effect of his attack warily. Whatever this being was, it was affected by the Gift of the Sages. When novices are first taught to harness the chakra characteristic to the monks of the Fire Temple, they were taught that the Gift differed from regular chakra in the sense that it was more spiritual. Practically speaking, this meant that the monks were able to achieve a balance of chakra that contained a significantly higher ratio of yin to yang chakra as opposed to the regular proportions of yin-yang. In actuality, this was an equilibrium achieved through much meditation and daily training to elevate one’s mindset to what Master Chukaku called “enlightment”. And in that sense, both their mind as well as their chakra became something able to touch the “spiritual”. So the Gift being what it was, this meant that this being was probably still some sort of spirit.

 

That was good to know. It seemed like he couldn’t afford to hold back then.

 

The stance used to perform the Temple’s greatest of technique was a familiar one, practically muscle memory. How many times had Master Chukaku have him practice this single stance? For how many years did he single-mindedly focus on practicing this one movement? Now, performing it was—in itself—a fortifying action, strengthening him both physically and mentally. Closing his eyes, he took another bracing breath and let his chakra flow, letting his mind settle and opening all his senses.

 

“ _Welcoming Approach_ ,” he murmured as the shadow peeled itself out of the crater in the tree, once again in its more vaporous form. “ _Thousand-Arm Murder!_ ”

 

The sudden silence of even Chiriku’s own thundering heartbeat as he blocked out the surrounding ambience gave way to soft chiming, announcing the arrival of the blessed Goddess of Mercy. He felt more than saw the benevolent figure of Kannon appear behind him and sent her a fervent prayer of gratitude for answering. Opening his eyes just in time to see the being rushing him once again, zigzagging erratically like a hunting cat, he threw his consciousness forward to guide the fists.

 

A flurry of attacks glowing a harsh red sent the dark mass spinning away from Chiriku’s person. Focusing intently, he guided the holy entity’s hands to come from every direction, directing the blows to keep the coagulation in one spot and surrounding it with fists. Trapped and thrown around in such a way, it started to shriek that knife-like, whining scream that burrowed into the monk’s eardrum.

 

He did not let it distract him.

 

If he didn’t stop this thing here and now, he would be killed and this _thing_ would be continue on unfettered and unknown. He only needed to subdue it briefly in order to bind it somehow. Unfortunately, that meant he would have to create a seal on the fly; one that would be able to trap an unidentifiable spirit.

 

Wonderful.

 

Maintaining the onslaught, Chiriku distractedly try to form an image of the kind of structure this seal would need. The last thing he needed right now was for the seal to blow up in his face.

 

It was able to maneuver through the wards he had placed around the area just fine, something he’d only seen the Kyuubi done (its chakra had actually burned any seals it had come near out of existence, and Chiriku was of the mind that it hadn’t even noticed). The five-element seal he used previously was regularly used to bind chakra, and seemed to have had some effect at least. Not much though, so perhaps the seal would need several layers? No, that would be too difficult to construct without any preparation on his part. More likely, he would have to place multiple two- or three-layered seals on top of one another. Yes…yes, multiple seals meant he could cover different aspects of youkai containment. Since he was unable to even vaguely recognize this being, it would be safer to cover as many angles as possible.

 

Sending the gracious warrioress’ fists in one last burst of blows, he used the attack to cover his own actions. Spinning in place and letting his foot drag in the dirt around him, he cleared his immediate surroundings of the leaf mold with the speed of his movement. Chiriku then dropped down to his knees in the circle he made and went through a whirl of hand signs. This would be an extremely rough sealing, but he couldn’t afford to try outlasting this creature and he did not think would it give him a chance to draw up proper seals or wards. So improvising it is.

 

His masters and teachers would be so ashamed.

 

With one last blow from the Thousand-Arm Murder attack, the dark entity was hurled to the ground. Slamming both hands into onto the earth, the shinobi muttered a bracing prayer to the Sage and every spirit listening for success. Black script immediately flowed out from under his hands and snaked across the ground before reaching the target. Once flowing onto ( _into_?) the shadow mass, the line of black characters multiplied and bloomed out around it like a spindly, wheel-like flower. Where before it crept, now it _writhed_ , visibly struggling to surge up and move.

 

Taking his chance, Chiriku took a hard leap into the air and flung kunai to equidistance points around the border of the bloomed seal. When the kunai hit their targets, the attached shinpu immediately started to burn with blue light, reinforcing his first seal like eight pillars.

 

Landing with a roll, he was sprinting practically before his feet were fully under him; his hands flashed through another long series of signs for a second seal. Harshly biting down on his thumb, the monk ignored the familiar metallic taste of warm coppery blood and concentrated on the details of his next seal as he again slammed his hands down. From where his fingers were pressed along the outer line of script, the shifting, black letters began to blaze white. With a sharp yell, he poured the Gift of the Sages into an overlapping seal that would form another layer to the prison he was creating.

 

Chiriku wasn’t sure how much time passed after that. Wasn’t sure how long it took for him to throw up three more seals that he tried to further interlock together. When he could finally stop, both his vision and hands wavered, and his robes were drenched through with cold sweat. However…

 

The mass was now more or less a lumpy puddle in the center of the seal. Compared to before, it was utterly (sinisterly) still. However, if he looked closely, it was still faintly pulsing…

 

While studying it, watching it to discern any attacks, he couldn’t help but notice how it seemed to shift. In fact, it looked more like…smoke. Smoke and sludge and dust and shadows. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a being with a description even remotely similar. Though if he looked closely, past the smoke, it seemed to vaguely have a shape. Or rather, it had vaguely familiar features. Even now, subdued, its shape kept changing. When he did manage to make out anything, it was parts and pieces rather than anything as a whole. At one point, it seemed to have eight legs, then three, then none. Other times it would have a human face, then a snout, then pincers. He still wasn’t quite sure how many eyes it had.

 

The Guardian-monk wasn’t quite sure what this was. A lost ghost, perhaps? A shrine god that wasn’t properly tended to or had their shrine destroyed? Either way, he would need to be very careful with the way he approached this. There was no way to keep this creature imprisoned short of building a shrine of some sort on top of it, and he would rather not do so. If he could perhaps settle or appease this entity, that would be better in the long run.

 

“Name thyself if you are able, oh one who is lost,” he demanded, insistent but respectful. “Show thy true nature.”

 

This seem to only agitate the creature even more, the pulsing becoming more erratic. The monk stood firm, his gaze never wavering.

 

“I cannot help you if you remain as you are,” he insisted. “ _Show thy true nature to this humble one_.”

 

The pulsing had begun violently writhing again. Twisting and squirming back into itself, the creature suddenly slamming itself up against the barriers shouldn’t shock him as much as it did. Lips pressed tight in worry, his mind raced to find a possible solution as he watched it thrash inside its prison. He needed to find a way to either identify it (perhaps purification would work?) or quickly seal it.

 

Apparently, he had even less time than he realized. Doing a strange movement where it spun into itself like a corkscrew, it slammed into one point of the barrier.

 

Once.

 

Twice.

 

About to reinforce the barrier, he wasn’t fast enough when it hit the eastern most point of the barrier a third time. With a wrenching crash like screaming metal, it _rippppeeed_ the multiple seals apart with great effort, the physical damage sending furrows of earth in the air. Another lash from a formed appendage sent the monk flying. Once wrenching itself fully out of the sealed area, the entity surged towards Chiriku.

 

Still off balance from suddenly being flung, he managed to get his feet under him but wasn’t able to orient himself and stop his slide before his back cracked against an unforgiving trunk.

 

He had nowhere left to go.

 

Just before it slammed into him, he sketched a rough, simple seal into the dirt before slamming the residue of Gift chakra he had left into it. Clasping his hands in a snake seal, he summoned a pyramid-shaped barrier around his immediate person just in time for sludge to slam up against the sparking, blue walls. Sweat dripped down his back and shoulders as the mass oozed over the pyramid, surrounding him in suffocating inkiness as it prodded his protections for an opening. He needed to quickly come up with a plan. Watching the mass corkscrew into itself again, he braced himself for impact.

 

A sharp, rumbling snarl suddenly rung overwhelmingly through the forest, followed by a tidal wave of wind and force. His barrier and the tree roots protected him, but he was blinded by the raised dust and flying leaf debris. Through the chaos, he caught a glimpse of red, vivid even in the shadows, flashing by him as it leapt at the mass of writhing shadows.

 

The impact _right into the center of the coagulation_ sounded like one of the master’s greatest fire jutsus setting a forest on fire.

 

_WHOOM!_

 

It was a scene of chaos. Dark fire tumbling with a soul-sucking black, flashing here and there and colliding like war. The surface of trees were torn off with loud crashes while the monk’s surroundings were lit aflame in the night, serving to cast a hellish, red glow on everything. From where he was kneeling within his barriers, he could barely manage to follow the speed of the brawl until the end where the Kyuubi slammed the other entity into the ground. Everything seem to hang still for a half a second after impact, before a crater tore apart the earth under them.

 

Chiriku could only watch with a too-clear head and muted horror as the Kyuubi (did it get even _larger_?) tore at the shadows with almost all its limbs. Covered in a cloak of boiling, red chakra, each sharp tail-swipe had the effect of a red-hot knife. Long, sharp claws and a human like dexterity had it tearing at it the way normal people did with flimsy cloth. And an unforgiving maw tore thick mouthfuls that writhed from between stark, white fangs.

 

It…It was _eating_ the shadows.

 

The way every bit of the shadows writhed and shifted shape even while being swallowed down was disturbing to say the least. He could vaguely see bits and appendages clawing and grasping from in between fangs before ruthlessly being crushed.

 

One last disconcerting gulp, and the Kyuubi ate the last of the shadows with an expressive grimace; just a long _sluuurrrpp_ like one would slurp ramen. The disconnect of the two images caused the monk to finally make a sound. Somehow, over the crackling of the small fires greedily eating all the leaves and woof alike, Chiriku’s small, choked noise was enough to gain the fox’s attention. The mutant child of an incredulous laugh and a muffled scream that escaped from his throat caused its head to shoot up and glare in his direction.

 

Chiriku froze, wide-eyed as he stared back at the red, red, _red_ fox.

 

But at least it wasn’t black.

 

With a clearly disdainful snort and a flicker of red tails, the fox disappeared back into the night and Chiriku was left alone in the dark.

 

Painfully aware of his bruise-tender body, he wondered what just happened.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you have a name? Or is your name really ‘Nine-Tails’?”

 

The Kyuubi snorted from where he was sprawled, tails occasionally flicking about the flat boulder it was sunning itself on, “Of course I have a name! ‘Kyuubi no Kitsune’ is what I _am_ in the same way you’re a ‘truly hairless human’.” Here the fox actually paused a little, and Chiriku was fascinated to see the creature’s brows furrow in paused thought. More than any natural beast, the bijuu had very human features and mannerisms. Though, he was sure if he told it that, it would be mortally offended. “Well, in that light, it could also be considered a title, I suppose. Even though some kitsune have managed to gain all nine tails, I will always be _the_ Kyuubi.”

 

“….And?” Chiriku hedged. “What is your name?”

 

“Why would I tell you my name?” the fox snarked, hostilely side-eyeing the monk. “Names are important. Mine especially. Like hell I’d give it to some lowly human.”

 

Said monk raised an eyebrow, “Well, I gave you my name.”

 

“And that means I should give you mine?” it replied mockingly. “Such a human concept.”

 

“It is called manners,” Chiriku huffed. “Courtesy and manners.”

 

This caused the fox to snort, “ _Human_ courtesy and manners. It’s sheer, deluded arrogance to assume that _I_ should abide by them. And even then, you insects’ behaviors and standards differentiate depending on group and place. I’m sure _somewhere_ , your ‘manners’ deem it rude to give your names out so casually. But that aside, why should _I_ have to follow _any_ of your human standards? _Especially_ yours?”

 

The man paused and contemplated this. While the Kyuubi did speak and converse intelligently in the same way summons did, it had none of the considerations Summoning Beasts usually more or less afforded to their human contractors. Even then, Chiriku could recall witnessing a couple incidents where a contracted Summon honestly could not comprehend a summoner’s orders or habits. He would have to be more careful about remembering that the fox was unlike anything he’d ever dealt with before. This was a creature that lived an entire existence separate from all the monk had ever known.

 

“You are right,” he conceded. The Kyuubi was visibly taken aback at this easy, casual concession. He was careful to keep his own gaze steady as it narrowed its eyes at him with part disbelief and part suspicion. “There is no reason you should conform to our standards. However, it would be rude for me to continue calling you ‘Nine-Tails’. I know that I do not particularly like being called ‘Monk’ as if it _were_ my actual name. More often than not, the way people go about it is derogatory.”

 

It wasn’t that rare, actually. Chiriku had never been particularly expressive in his opinions about some of the more extravagant or…controversial pastimes the daimyo’s nobles partook in. Nor had he ever been particularly _quiet_ either. It was a sad fact that many in power tend to become consumed by the illusion of their own authority and its allowances. Since becoming a Guardian, he had become familiar with the way some nobles would sneer or wrinkle their nose as they refer to him as ‘ _that **monk**_ ’. However, just because he had become accustomed to it, didn’t make it any less dehumanizing.

 

He wondered what it was like for this being, who was so guarded and proud and wary. When was the last time anyone had referred to it by its actual _name_ rather than what it _was_? Certainly, in legend, it was always referred to as an unreasonable force of nature, a mindless beast that was cursed upon the world. Force of nature and beast it indeed was, but it was never conveyed that it had _intelligence_. That it could reason, that it had a personality or its own agenda.

 

“I don’t see why you bother,” the Kyuubi sighed in exasperation. Shifting onto its other side to catch the sun better, it continued to study him with half-lidded, menacing gaze. “I’m just a demon to you puny infestations. It’s all I’ve ever been called or referred by, and that’s perfectly fine with me! Why the sudden interest?”

 

“I want to thank you for saving my life,” Chiriku confessed, not missing the way the Kyuubi’s ears laid flat with barely hidden shock. “But then I realized I did not know exactly how to address my gratitude to you. Simply saying, ‘thank you, oh Nine-Tails’ seemed a bit impersonal.”

 

“Don’t _thank_ me,” the fox yelped indignantly, barring its teeth at the human. Taking a few moments to grumble to itself, it finally muttered a bit more loudly, “Actually, it’s a pity. I should have let it eat your entrails first and finally rid myself of you. Would have saved me the trouble of chasing you down and eating you myself…”

 

The monk’s only response was to raise a passive eyebrow “Why did you not?”

 

“…It has nothing to do with you,” it hissed, though there was a hunch in its shoulders made more obvious by the fact it had crossed its weirdly human proportional arms when it had laid down. If Chiriku didn’t know any better, he’d say the fox was _embarrassed_. “There is a…an unbalance in the natural chakra that makes the fabric of this world. Something is disturbing the balance and it’s spawning crap like the thing that I should have let eat you.”

 

“I do not understand. It was something…unnatural? What exactly was that being?” the monk’s brows furrowed. What the Kyuubi said…sounded dire. There was a sense that he had stumbled upon a situation a lot larger than he could fully comprehend, and it sent chills up his spine. “I initially thought it to be a nogitsune or oni of some kind—”

 

“Hardly!” the fox snapped sharply, raising its large head with hackles raised in offense. “ _Humans_. First off, don’t you dare put nogitsune and oni in the same category, for fuck’s sake! They are two completely different sets of entities. Don’t you lot know anything about the yokai?!”

 

Abruptly, it felt like he was being lectured by one of his stricter teachers, who were also able to sound simultaneously equal parts scornful and unimpressed. The sudden scolding came so out of left field that Chiriku couldn’t help but straighten his shoulders reflexively. Truly, this had to be the most disconcerting sensation up to date, even more than the mass of apparently not-youkai trying to eat his…entrails.

 

“We are trained!” he defended, then winced as his twinging bruises reminded him of how ineffectively he dealt with the situation from two nights ago. “…But this is admittedly the first time I have ever had such an encounter.”

 

Cue the fox slapping a hand-like paw over its eyes and muttering angrily. Drawing its long, clawed fingers down its snout, it continued to look sky ward as if to ask why the heavens was having him deal with such stupidity.

 

“Of course it is,” it finally sighed. “Okay, firstly, oni look _nothing_ like that. Secondly, nogitsune are _field foxes_. They can transform, but none of them could ever feel like _that_. That _thing_ from the other night was an _abomination_.” The fox grimaced, “And as the oldest and _most powerful_ ,” it emphasized pointedly, though Chiriku wasn’t sure why. Perhaps such a thing had been contested before? “Of the Sage’s children, I have a responsibility to deal with it.”

 

It took the monk a few seconds to fully process that last bit, but when he did, he blinked. And blinked again. Nope, the fox was still there.

 

Oh Sage bless, and he wasn’t nearly creative enough to have imagined such a statement.

 

“The Sage of Nine Path’s—,” he choked, his eyes bugging out. Heavens forgive him but _screw_ the teachings of dignity and repose. How else was he to react to such news? “ _Truly_?!”

 

The fox’s answer was a sneer and eyeroll.

 

“Nominally,” the Kyuubi admitted. “He brought us into existence and cared for us until the day he passed on.”

 

“And by ‘us’, you mean the other bijuu?” the monk questioned with a hint of awe.

 

“Obviously,” the entity snorted, managing to infuse one word with just how stupid it thought the human was. It then paused, and something in its expression changed from impatient disdain to thoughtfulness, “He wanted us to guard this world that he remade. Keep everything in check and balanced to guard against the time a new darkness would rise, a darkness like the one he and his brother defeated before we were created. But since _someone_ sealed us away, we haven’t exactly been able to do that in the last—how many decades? Almost a century now, I think. Of _course_ the first thing that happens when I get free is for the universe to rub it in my face just how screwed up things are.”

 

So…indeed there were larger forces moving in the world. If what the fox said was true (something he would have questioned if he hadn’t almost been killed by an unexplainable entity the other night), then humanity may have accidentally cut down the overgrown forest and let loose the flood.

 

In other words, they may have removed one threat only to be faced with something overwhelmingly worse.

 

He would need to think on this.

 

“Was the Sage the one who gave you a name?” Chiriku asked instead of the dozen other prying questions he knew wouldn’t be taken well.

 

Its pause was longer this time. The befuddled, contemplative way its long, rabbit-like ears flickered back and forth was the only sign that it wasn’t quite contemplating whether to kill him or not.

 

“Yes,” it admitted softly. “He was.”

 

The monk nodded thoughtfully.

 

“No wonder then,” he murmured softly, more to himself than for the fox. He raised his head back up to meet the Kyuubi’s examining eyes. “Truly, it is an important name. I hope that one day, you will find someone who you feel is worthy of gifting it too.”

 

The entity’s hackles raised aggressively as a growl rose in its throat, “If you’re still hinting I should give my name to _you—”_

 

“Not me,” he clarified quickly. “But perhaps you should think about choosing another name for yourself. One that you wouldn’t mind being referred to as in the meantime.” He hummed thoughtfully, tugging at the edge of a long sleeve, “I do mean it, you know. When I look at you, I see an entity that has stood above the rest of the world for a long, long time. But standing above the world, standing superior and separate to everything and everyone else…is not that the same as being alone?” Clearly about to violently refute, the fox’s mouth snapped shut at his last few words. “If one day, you find someone that you have genuinely come to care and trust—I am not saying it will be a human, mind—then I am sure they will be someone you can entrust with your true name. I pray that you will one day find such a person. In the meantime, I cannot imagine you would have much chance of finding such a companion if you do not at least try to talk to others first. So! A pseudonym, of sorts. Or a nickname. ”

 

The fox was staring at him again with that gaze from when he first spoke of the Temple monks’ creed. Something strangely absent of hostility and almost melancholy in nature. Meeting its gaze serenely, he wondered if it was really that surprised by honesty or just estranged to having an forthright interaction with another.

 

“…Call me whatever you want,” the Kyuubi finally grumbled and, for the first time since they’ve met, curled its tails over its face in a way that wasn’t virulently defensive. “Why would it matter to me?”

 

…Well. If he was to be given such an honor, then this would require Chiriku to put a good deal of thought into it. The monk slowly made his way to the boulder the Kyuubi was sprawled on top of, careful to not make any moves under the wary, red gaze peeking out from in between two tails. Turning, he sat down and maneuvered himself into a familiar meditative pose, his back resting against the boulder with a sigh. In this way, he sat _next_ to the fox rather than across, and he didn’t have to look to see how bewildered it was. Leaning his head back, he enjoyed the warmth of the dappled sunlight filtered through the gently waving treetops above.

 

Silence reigned but for the chattering of the birds and the gentle rustling of leaves. Soft winds ruffled his clothes, and warmth from the sun and the stone at his back sunk into his very bones. He could see why the Kyuubi had chosen this rock to sun on.

 

It really was a lovely day.

 

“What about Daichi, then?” the man finally suggested. “It means ‘first and impressive son’. After all, you say you are the oldest of the bijuu and the first child of the First Sage, did you not?”

 

He could see one of the tails hanging off the side of the boulder top twitch.

 

“…If you have to call me something, then that isn’t too bad.”

 

Chiriku couldn’t help the small, elated smile on his lips. At least the fox wouldn’t be able to see it from this angle.

 

“Thank you, Daichi-san,” he thanked the other solemnly. “You saved my life.”

 

The mutinous grumble he received in return was only par on course at this point.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m leaving today.”

 

“Thank the Sage,” was the fox’s immediate, reflexive response.

 

Only dignity kept Chiriku from snorting or rolling his eyes. He honestly didn’t think he’d ever met a pricklier individual than this fox.

 

“I don’t have a reason to stay anymore,” the monk bluntly explained.

 

This seemed to pique the fox’s interest, causing it to raise its head to stare at him incredulously.

 

“Not even to guard the village from me?” it rumbled its question. “Didn’t you send out a message calling for another little worm to come guard your worm pit? Not that I’m not absolutely _exhilarated_ that you’re leaving, but I thought you would have remained here until they arrived.”

 

“If I sent out such a message then I strangely have no memory of it,” Chiriku shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter anyways. The villager’s troubles are solved and the daimyo insists on my return. From what I’ve seen, you are not a threat to this village at least.”

 

“ _Bastard_ ,” the Kyuubi ( _Daichi_ ) snarled, leaping to his feet with offense outlined in every aggressively waving tail and its claws digging the stone under it. “ ** _Who do you think I am?!_** _I am every mortal’s **worst** **NIGHTMARE!** I could crush your worm pit down there with barely any thought at all!_”

 

It probably said something that Chiriku’s only reaction to the sudden, flailing outburst of corrosive, red chakra was a raised eyebrow. In return, the Kyuubi snapped its impressive set of teeth in his direction, clearly even more vexed at how unfazed the human remained.

 

“You could,” the monk agreed mildly. “And such a small human village is so worthy your attention because…?”

 

“ _It’s not!_ ” the fox snapped, and then paused as it realized it had been outmaneuvered. Snarling, it scowled poisonously at the human, “I should go through the village and eat all the little worms’ entrails just for that.”

 

“Seeing as you call us worms, I couldn’t see that as being a particularly appetizing experience on your part,” Chiriku serenely observed.

 

Moodily settling back down and curling up, (Daichi) the Kyuubi huffed. It was a noise that was one part scathing insult at Chiriku for daring to be _human_ and one part grudging admittance.

 

“No,” it grimaced. “You lot never are.”

 

The monk wasn’t quite able to suppress the small, amused smile that appeared on his face. He hadn’t really known what he was getting into when he had first approached the fox, except that it would probably be disastrous. This? Not quite that disastrous. Maybe his teachers and masters would be horrified with him, would put him in isolation to reflect on his choices. But this…?

 

He didn’t like to think about the earliest years of his life, back before he had been brought to the Temple of Fire. But he believed in second choices and the ability to make a difference. Not that long ago, those very same teachers and masters taught him to hold his hand out to those who hurt, who despaired, who lost hope. And looking at this prickly creature, this force of nature, curled into itself all by its lonesome? Who had walls so thick and lashed out so often? One who had, more or less, _saved_ the monk?

 

For better or worse, this was Chiriku’s choice. May the Sage and all the Gods look down on this humble one favorably and have mercy, but this was the choice he was making.

 

He closed his eyes and took a deep, meditative breath. When he opened his eyes, it was to the fox’s derisively curious gaze.

 

“I’ll try to come back to check up on how you’re doing as soon as I can,” he assured the fox.

 

“Don’t,” said fox immediately insisted. “Maybe I’ll finally heal without you hovering and bothering me every fucking hour of the day.”

 

“Perhaps that is the case,” Chiriku nodded agreeably. “Nevertheless, I will return as soon as I can to see whether or not you are still here. The best of luck to you. I will pray for your good fortune and health. Please heal soon.”

 

“Go jump off a cliff, you frigid asshat,” it growled. If the monk wasn’t mistaken, the fox had started fluffing up in annoyance. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

 

This time, Chiriku really couldn’t stop his amused snort, “Good bye, Daichi-san.”

 

He turned and walked away from the black clearing, mentally preparing for the long journey back to the capital. If he ran without breaks and through the night, he’d be able to make it back by the morning of the third day. A truly exhausting journey, but as a Guardian sworn to the daimyo personally, it was only his duty. Additionally, he was looking forward to see his friends among the Twelve Guardians.

 

It was only when he was at a distance that the Kyuubi said anything. Words that were murmured so softly that Chiriku thought it probably had thought he wouldn’t be able to hear with his weak human hearing.

 

“Huh…strangely sincere…,” it muttered. “For a human.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://jflicker.tumblr.com/)


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